


The Sand in Our Shoes

by cooliopio



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Recovery, Sad Tsukishima Kei, Supportive Yamaguchi Tadashi, Team as Family, Texting, understanding team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25725142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cooliopio/pseuds/cooliopio
Summary: As the afternoon bell rang its sweet tune to signal the end of classes, Tsukishima’s shoes filled with sand. Him and his sandy shoes had to cautiously drag themselves to the volleyball club room, careful not to make a mess or slow down with the added weight. Sand spilled in the hallways. Sand spilled on the concrete. Sand spilled on the wet steps leading to the club room door.Tsukishima has always struggled with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and today is no different.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 197





	The Sand in Our Shoes

**Author's Note:**

> tw for panic attacks and medication. Thank you for checking my fic out!

Warm light from the streetlamps reflect off the damp pavement and ripples through shallow puddles as Tsukishima slowly trudges down the center of the road towards home. The night is cold and dark, having only stopped raining a few minutes ago, and the lingering storm clouds blind the moon and stars. He feels like he’s trapped in a vacuum, a never-ending void surrounding him and waiting for him to crumble. His headphones fit snug over his ears, but there’s nothing playing; they only help create a barrier between him and the world. As he walks, he breathes shallowly. Persistent anxiety clings to his lungs and kidneys as he fights it; he just wants to make it home. He knows he should be looking ahead of himself and practicing soothing breathing techniques, but he can’t help but look down at his shoes scraping against the pavement, creating low splashes, and thinking _keep it together, keep it together, keep it together, damn it!_

Afternoon practice, today, was rough. His anxiety didn’t quell even after he took his medication this morning after he woke up choking on air, hands trembling, fumbling with putting on his glasses. He only made It through school by using his usual cool-faced façade, keeping to himself and humming short responses, all while he grounded himself by fiddling with his fingers and cracking his knuckles. As the afternoon bell rang its sweet tune to signal the end of classes, Tsukishima’s shoes filled with sand. Him and his sandy shoes had to cautiously drag themselves to the volleyball club room, careful not to make a mess or slow down with the added weight. Sand spilled in the hallways. Sand spilled on the concrete. Sand spilled on the wet steps leading to the club room door. As more and more sand spilled, Tsukishima felt himself slipping. A hair out of place. Chewing on his lip. His diaphragm weighed down with rocks. Cracking his knuckles that don’t need to be cracked.

He steeled himself as he opened the door, taking a short breath in. Most of his teammate’s clothes were strewn over chairs and benches, bags and lockers left open, but no one in the room. _Ah,_ he thought, _I’m late._ Tsukishima knew that he would be subject to punishment, as per club policy, but he didn’t know if he could handle it. _Failure,_ he thought. The edge he resided on today was so impossibly thin and sharp, that a spirit’s exhale could make him fall. He _couldn’t_ deal with this, today. His capacity to tolerate anything outside of his carefully crafted routine was shot, and the foreboding feeling scratching down his back didn’t give him any confidence.

Tsukishima slowly dressed himself, mindlessly unbuttoning his gakuran and peeling off his shirt. His mind floated above him, dissociating himself with himself as he put on his practice uniform. He doesn’t remember tying up his shoes and walking out the club room to the gym. The only thing announcing his arrival to practice is his soft footsteps and the creak of the metal door. The team turned around and called out jesting jabs at his uncharacteristically late arrival.

Daichi gave him a soft, sorry smile and assigned him his punishment. “A lap for every two minutes late!”

Tsukishima softly, slowly nodded and began his ten laps.

One thing about Tsukishima that can be universally agreed on is that he is not out of shape. He’s fit, trained for endurance, and physically strong. But the laps had him gasping for air as the anxiety coating his lungs limited his ability to breathe. As he finished his tenth lap, he heaved for breath but wasn’t breathing particularly deep; he bent over and braced himself on his knees as Yachi handed him a water bottle with a wavery smile. Tsukishima graciously bowed and took the bottle from her hand, chugging down the water; he forgot how dehydrated his anxiety makes him, sometimes. His tongue felt chalky in his mouth as he gulped down more water before slugging onto the court.

The team was practicing blocking drills, hoping to solidify their technique before a practice match with Date Tech the following week. But Tsukishima’s shoes were still filled with sand, and they weighed down his jumps and spilled everywhere in the process. He couldn’t get his timing down, and he knew he was hindering the team. Asahi and Hinata were consoling his blunders, _don’t mind don’t mind,_ they parroted, but Tsukishima _did_ mind. He knew he was capable of doing this, he was the shocking first-year blocker, for gods sake. But as he missed block after block, he fell deeper and deeper into his anxiety.

_I’m just bringing the team down._

_They’re better without me._

_They’re just going to kick me off if I keep performing like this._

_If they kick me off, they’re all going to think I’m worthless._

_Yamaguchi will stop being my friend if I’m worthless._

_I’ll be all alone._

_I’m not worth anything if I’m all alone._

Tsukishima worked himself further and further into panic as he kept jumping and missing, jumping and missing, jumping late and missing, not jumping at all and missing because he messed up the timing. Round after round, after round, Tsukishima could sense the team getting annoyed with him. Daichi’s sigh’s grew more frequent, and Kageyama’s scowl grew deeper and sharper.

After his fifteenth flubbed jump, Kageyama had had enough.

“Oi!” He yelled curtly, “What’s with you today?! Finally decide that this team isn’t worth your time?”

The words wrapped around Tsukishima’s heart and squeezed unpleasantly, manifesting his anxiety as anger. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you, _King,_ ” he seethed lowly.

Kageyama huffed, “Sorry peasants like us aren’t worth your time, all of a sudden. Who’s the real king?”

Tsukishima’s anger flared, his tongue becoming a dagger. “Well at least I’m not so self-absorbed in myself to where my entire team hated me because I was a tyrant.”

“Oh!” Kageyama barked a laugh, “do you even hear yourself right now? This entire team _does_ hate you. You don’t give a _shit_ about anyone on this team except yourself. At least _I_ learned from my mistakes!”

Yamaguchi gasped from the sidelines, shocked. “H-hey, Kageyama,” he stuttered, “that’s—”

Kageyama cut him off before Yamaguchi could finish, “At least my team trusts me now. And I can’t say the same about you. I don’t think anyone here _trusts_ you.”

That was the final blow to Tsukishima. His anger grew, but it morphed into anger towards himself. He valued trust more than anything in this world. After his trust being betrayed by Akiteru, he made it his personal goal to be trustworthy. People didn’t have to _like_ him, but he wanted to at least be trustworthy.

“Oi!” Yamaguchi shouted, but Tsukishima didn’t pay attention to what he had to say afterwards. Tsukishima’s eyes glazed over and grew detached, staring off into nowhere as he steeled his emotions. His anxiety crawled up his throat and pulsed through his veins; he felt it in his fingertips and in his sandy shoes. He felt his breathing hitch and grow more irregular as he began to panic.

Yamaguchi was quick to notice Tsukishima’s change in breathing and turned away from Kageyama.

“Oh, oh fuck!” he shouted, panicked.

Yamaguchi ran under the net to brace Tsukishima, lowering him to the floor steadily as his knees gave out, breathing still uneven. As they reached the floor, Tsukishima dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, dislodging his glasses. Yamaguchi picked them off and folded them onto the front of his shirt for safe keeping. Yamaguchi tucked Tsukishima into him, gently rubbing his back and beginning to count to try and help Tsukishima’s breathing.

Nothing was helping. After a couple minutes of trying to help Tsukishima breathe but him not giving any indication of responding to the instruction, Yamaguchi turned to his teammates on the other side of the net.

“Someone go get me Tsukki’s bag from the club room. _Now,_ ” Yamaguchi demanded, adding a soft “please” as an afterthought.

Tanaka immediately bolted from the gym towards the club room as Yamaguchi continued rubbing Tsukishima’s back firmly.

Tanaka appeared a few moments later, arriving with Tsukishima’s bag tightly clutched to his chest. He all but threw it into Yamaguchi’s possession.

“Okay, Tsukki. I’m going to have to let go of you for a second, alright?” Yamaguchi told Tsukishima in a reassuring tone. Tsukishima let out a quiet, pitiful whine in response.

Yamaguchi carefully untangled himself from Tsukishima and started rummaging through his bag, procuring an orange pill bottle and Tsukishima’s headphones. Yamaguchi slipped the headphones onto Tsukishima’s ears, but didn’t move to play anything through them.

“Yachi, can you bring me a water bottle?” Yamaguchi called as he opened the pill bottle and picked out one of the pills.

Yachi squeaked an affirmation and quickly ran over with a bottle. Yamaguchi thanked her as he took it before turning his attention back to Tsukishima.

“Hey, Tsukki,” he gently prodded, “take your medicine, alright?”

Tsukishima made no move to grab the pill or the water.

Yamaguchi sighed. “Tsukki, you know it’ll make you feel better. That’s why you have this prescription.”

No response.

“I know you don’t want to take it, but taking it doesn’t mean you’re weak or a failure, alright? Take it, please? For me?”

Tsukishima moved one of his hands from his eyes and held It out, palm up, to receive the medication, eyes still screwed tight. Yamaguchi sighed in relief as he placed the pill in Tsukishima’s hand. Tsukishima popped it in his mouth and held his hand out again for the water. Yamaguchi obliged, and Tsukishima swallowed the pill.

“That’s good, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi praised. He took Tsukishima back into his arms and began trying to help control Tsukishima’s breathing again.

After a few minutes, Tsukishima began complying with the instruction and calming down; Yamaguchi noticed and started to peel away.

“Do you think you can stand?” he asked.

Tsukishima nodded.

“Alright.” Yamaguchi responded, working himself onto his feet in a squat before helping Tsukishima to his.

Yamaguchi grabbed Tsukishima’s bag and slung it over his arms as he helped Tsukishima up to a full stand. Tsukishima held this head low and his shoulders lower, looking impossibly small for the tall blocker. He refused to let the team see his tear-streaked face.

“Let’s head to the club room, alright?” Yamaguchi suggested.

Tsukishima nodded in response.

Yamaguchi lead Tsukishima to the club room slowly and quietly, thankful the rain had stopped, the team looking at them confused, worried, and stunned. He didn’t care. Once they made it to the club room, Yamaguchi gently plopped Tsukishima down on a chair.

“You should go home,” he suggested.

Tsukishima let out a hoarse “yeah.”

“So, let’s get you dressed, alright?”

Tsukishima nodded, once again peeling off his shirt and replacing it with the uniform shirt and gakuran Yamaguchi held out to him. His pants were soon to follow.

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima whined, “my shoes.”

Yamaguchi huffed a laugh, “I can take them off for you, you big baby,” he said without malice. Tsukishima knew Yamaguchi wasn’t calling him a baby for having an anxiety attack.

Yamaguchi kneeled and removed Tsukishima’s shoes, but no sand spilled from his movement.

Tsukishima slipped on his outdoor shoes and stood up from the chair.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Yamaguchi asked.

“No,” Tsukishima replied, “I want to be alone right now.”

“I figured.” Yamaguchi drawled. “Get home safe, alright?”

“I will. Have fun at the rest of practice.”

“I will.” Yamaguchi paused, “what do you want me to tell the team?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Well, because they’re going to ask, Tsukki.

Tsukishima hummed. “Tell them whatever. I don’t really care.”

Yamaguchi sighed. “Alright. Well, you should be on your way. It’s getting dark.

Tsukishima responded by leaving the club room. Yamaguchi followed him out the door, down the steps, and closely behind him until they had to part ways.

“Tsukki?”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself, alright?”

“Yeah."

Yamaguchi noticed the faint smile to Tsukishima’s parting words as he turned back to go to the gym.

Yamaguchi walked in tentatively, unsure of what the team would be doing, only to find them huddled in a circle talking about what just happened. Yamaguchi cleared his throat to make his presence known.

“I sent him home,” he announced, “I hope that’s okay with you, captain.”

Daichi nodded aggressively. “Yes! Of course that’s okay! He looked really shaken.”

“Yamaguchi?” Hinata piped up.

“Hm?”

“Why did Tsukishima start crying? I mean, he and Kageyama bicker all the time, but they’re usually fine! But Tsukishima got that scary, empty look on his face and then just! Bwham! He was breathing really weird. And then you gave him some kind of medicine? Oh, god, did he have a heart attack? Does he have a heart condition? That’d be really weird to play volleyball with, though. I’m just really confused—”

“ _Hinata,_ ” Yamaguchi cut him off. “He had a panic attack.”

“A panic attack?”

“Yes. A panic attack.”

Now, it was Kageyama’s turn to be confused. “But, why?” he asked.

Yamaguchi sighed at how dense the duo was. “He has generalized anxiety disorder. Today was a bad anxiety day for him, and you brought up the trust thing. Trust is a big trigger for him, and his anxiety flared up. Thus, panic attack."

Kageyama at least had the decency to look troubled at his actions.

“But that doesn’t explain the medicine, though?” Hinata prodded.

Yamaguchi nodded, “Yeah, that was a medicine he has to take if he has a panic attack and doesn’t start calming down. It’s different than his daily medicine. He doesn’t like having to take it and hasn’t in a while.” The team looked at Yamaguchi silently, the air tense. “I haven’t seen him have a panic attack that bad in a while, to be honest. He probably feels pretty bad having it in front of you guys.”

Kageyama muttered to himself, “I should probably apologize.”

Yamaguchi hummed in neutral agreement.

As Tsukishima pads down the road, he can feel how emotionally drained he is. He just wants to go home, tangle himself in his blankets, cry out his after-panic-attack-depression, and go to sleep. But he has to get there, first. So, he keeps walking, step after step, eyes trained on the glistening pavement until he reaches home. It takes about twice as long as usual to the front door of his house.

Tsukishima lets out a quiet “I’m back” and slips off his shoes and makes quick work of going upstairs to his bedroom. He sheds his uniform and slips on one of Yamaguchi’s forgotten hoodies and nestles himself into the corner where his wall meets the bed. Tsukishima lets the dam break as soon as he’s under the covers, sobbing and taking in shaky breaths as he lets himself cathartically cry from the weight of the day.

He stays under his covers for a while before he cries himself out and unsheathes himself from his blanket cocoon in search of leftovers from dinner. Crying was tiring.

Once he returned to his room after eating, he retrieves his phone from his bag and opens it up to find more than a few text messages from his teammates, mildly surprised practice was already over. _It makes sense,_ he thinks, _I was late, slow as shit to get home, and cried for a while._

**Yamaguchi**

> Let me know when you get home.

> I’m worried about you

> You can talk to me about it, alright?

> I love you :^)

Tsukishima’s heart warms as he reads the message, making quick work of replying.

< I made it home safe.

< nothing really to talk about, just a bad day, like I said at lunch.

< the king just brought up the trust thing. But you figured that.

< I love you too.

< Also, you still have my glasses.

> Oh no! I’ll bring them to you tomorrow morning.

**Daichi**

> Oi, Tsukishima. Sorry you had a bad day at practice today. It’s important that I let you know none of the team feel different about you after seeing you like that. It’s okay. You can always let me know about stuff like this in the future, alright? I’m your captain afterall.

> Oh, and the team does trust you. Don’t let anything Kageyama says stick too close, alright?

Tsukishima let his shoulders relax as he read his captain’s message but didn’t bother to reply.

**Asahi**

> hey tsukishima

> uh

> I also have gad so

> if you ever need anyone to talk to that really gets it

> well

> im here

> :^)

Tsukishima could’ve guessed Asahi had some form of anxiety from ten miles away without his glasses. But he appreciated Asahi reaching out and the kinship of having the same brand of anxiety.

< Thank you senpai.

< You as well.

Tsukishima grossed himself out how sappy he was being in his replies. Well, maybe only he thought it was sappy. His cool façade has standards, though.

**Nishinoya**

> … u looking to sell any of ur anxiety meds

> ;)

Tsukishima rolled his eyes.

< Die

>I WAS JOKING PLEASE DON’T TELL ON ME

> I WASN’T SERIOUS

**Tanaka**

>DON’T LISTEN TO NOYA

>HES AN IDIOT

< Die.

Tsukishima continued responding to texts from his teammates, but one of them stood out.

**Kageyama**

> I’m Sorry.

> That wasn’t okay of me.

> I’ll make it up to you.

Tsukishima quirked his eyebrow, intrigued by the olive branch the king extended offering reparations. He scoffed and let out a sly smile, turning to plug in his phone on his nightstand and go to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a vent fic. I just upped my medication dosage and have had increased anxiety as a side affect. I love emotionally vulnerable tsukishima and loving/caring/pillar of support yamaguchi. I like to think that they mutually help each other and yamaguchi isnt just following tsukki around like a kicked puppy.... 
> 
> if you see any glaring errors please let me know, this wan't beta read. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos if you enjoyed.   
> Follow me on tumblr @unfairlawyer!


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